


Good Disaster

by colberry



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Aoi is pining, Drunken Confessions, M/M, Oblivious Cockblock, POV First Person, Pining, Unrequited Love, We All Want What We Can't Have
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 19:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colberry/pseuds/colberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Uruha whispers secrets against cheeks and Aoi is a masochist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Disaster

_We were fearless once._  
  
Somewhere between the static of mics and fiberglass shards, we were beautiful.  Something more than the kohl that slathered across our eyes, hid our faces in the glow of rouge, noir and jade.  It was in the way our mascara dripped and eyeliner smudged -- the precise moment of everything collapsing.  Sweat and deep breaths.  E majors and blistered fingers.  
  
We pulled stars from god's jaw -- traced constellations on each other's chests with our eyes like we could swallow the word 'forever'.  Because we were in those times of fervent glances over Kai's drum set; in those pocketfuls of seconds when the stage lights dimmed and the audience paused and it was just us beside each other, breathing in.  
  
You crawled into my lungs and I tried to sink my fingertips into your heart.  Tried to keep you _here_.    
  
Drunk at 3AM, slung around my waist in a nameless bar -- the others ahead of us ordering another round -- you whispered against my cheek, _"I think I could've fallen in love with you."_  
  
The words tasted like vodka, but I cradled the confession close to my chest.  To remember in those times when your eyes are melted steel and Reita sifts his fingers through your hair.    
  
_"Why?"_ \-- because I'm a masochist and I love the feeling of my ribs shattering, my heart dripping along ivory bone.    
  
Because I want to say:  _"Then why not?"_  
  
But I remember your smiles against Reita's shoulder during practice, the way your hand finds his in the darkness before the encore -- how you both _look_ at each other and how it's _right_ and _I'm too late._  
  
So I settle for watching your eyes, glazed and honeyed and doomed to forget these breaths, gazing into mine and your lips parting along my collarbone, a murmur of slurred words I can't catch --   
  
"Alright Kouyou, let's stop slobbering on Aoi, okay?"  Reita smiles wide, eyes rolling in seeming exasperation, but I can see the endearment that flickers across his light visage.  And you smile too, content to slide over to him and nestle against his side -- whispering soft words as your fingertips find his.  
  
Ruki finds his way next to me, muttering about "OHP graphics" and long lines.  Kai settles on my other side, nudging another beer my way with a grin.  
  
And I can almost still feel your arms around my waist; a forever-reminder of what could have been.   
  
Of what you could have said against my skin


End file.
